


Very Old Friends

by Omorka



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Community: fanfic_bakeoff, Gen, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omorka/pseuds/Omorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One's oldest friends can be a comfort, even if they often are a right pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Very Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt 13: Escape. RIP, Nicholas Courtney.

The infernal machine at his side beeped again. The UNIT nurse fiddled with the tube that hooked him to the machine; he shook his head gently. “Leave it,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t choose to be attached to it, either.”

The nurse smiled gently. “You’ve seen too many cyborgs for your taste already, is that it, Brigadier?”

“And you,” returned Lethbridge-Stewart, “spent too long with Torchwood. Heavens only know what you’ve seen.”

The nurse glanced over. “You’ve a visitor. I’ll just be in the other room, then.”

“No visitors -” Alistair started, then stopped at the familiar visage in the doorway. “Oh. Well, there’s no stopping you from coming in, is there?”

“Not at all,” said the tall, white-haired man, stepping over the doorsill with more care than usual. “I’d ask how you were, but we both already know the answer to that, I suppose.”

“Making an escape from your nonsense,” the Brig quipped. He waited until his visitor had lowered himself into the room’s lone chair. “Although I suppose that doesn’t quite work for you.”

“It never has before,” the Doctor said, shrugging. His eyes traced the tube from the Brigadier’s chest to the machine and back. “Then again, I’ve never really needed one.”

Alistair waited out another pause before starting again. “And did the lot of you draw straws to see who had to stand hospital duty?”

The Doctor actually looked slightly hurt at that. “Not at all. I just - didn’t get around to visiting you before, so I’m doing it now.”

“So all your other faces had already seen me die?”

“You could think of it that way.” The Doctor allowed himself his usual impish grin. “But - consider this. How many other friends do you have who still come and visit after they’ve been to your funeral?”


End file.
